Switching to Manual

I was cleaning through every single paper I've compiled in the past 2 years yesterday. The "Trash" pile was much higher than the "Keep" pile. Then I came across a red binder. I had no idea what was inside. Opening it, I found line graphs I made to monitor my blood-sugar and a dozen pages itemizing every hour of exercise and piece of food I ate for 3 months... the scariest, most frustrating 3 months of my life.

If you're just joining us, I'm a Type-I diabetic. Doctors say my pancreas may have started suckin up 9 years back (for all you fellow Rangers, NOW we know why I graduated high school at 5'7" 109 lbs.). But it didn't catch up to me symptom-wise until November 2005. Since control is my source of comfort, I started that red binder the day I met my nutritionist. It's incredible looking back at that line graph start at 300 mg/dl... down to 65... 278... 110... 407... 205... and within 2 months settling into the 80-140 range until eventually, the markings stop mid-page. And the food diary goes from detailing every slice of cheese and every cracker to types of food... to round estimates of carbs... to checkmarks... and then stop. Mid-page.

And the binder closed. For 15 months. Out of sight. Out of mind. Until yesterday. As I scanned that line graph from left to right, emotions pop up as clear and distinct as the dots on the page. Blue means frustration. Red means panic. Green depends on the day. It's a sigh of relief. Or an eye-roll as I figure the next dot will be blue. Or confusion because I feel "red" but the number came out right.

If this isn't making much sense to you, it didn't make any sense to me. And all that confusion, all that patience... up to my triumphant final checkmark... it's all bound in that red binder. And I'd forgotten all about it... a testament itself to my successful journey back to Control.

There was never a sense of hopelessness. People ask me what diabetes is like. It's like driving a car. Most people drive automatics. They eat what they want and hit the gas. The car knows what shift to drive in. I've switched over to manual. The car can't do it on its own. You have to learn the clutch. Those who can't manage could stall out. But those who can usually get better gas-mileage. They have a greater respect for their cars and treat them right. Everyday. Every time they hit the road.

You all see Jayme, Freggin' Awesome Driver Dude. But everyone has to back into the lightpole in the high school parking lot a few times first. My dents and scratches are all there in my red binder.

One more for the "Keep" pile.